Gym Junkie Read online

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  It takes an army to write one of my books and I have the best army in the world.

  To my writing team, my mum, Vicki, Am, Rachel, Lisa K, Nicole, Lisa D, Nadia, Charlotte, Jane, and Jodie: thank you. You don’t know how much I appreciate the hours and hours of work you put in reading every draft of my books. I rewrite everything so many times, and I know I’m exhausting, and being drip fed chapters every couple of days must drive you all insane.

  To my editing team, Victoria and Virginia, thank you for coming on this ride with me. I’m so lucky to have you both.

  To Linda and my PR team at Foreword: thank you for everything you do for me.

  I’ve made a new friend this last year and she is pushing me forward in my dreams of becoming a screenwriter. Thank you, Rena. You are my angel.

  To Hang Lee, the cover goddess of the world. You nail it every time. I just give you the images now and you know what to do. Your talent makes my life so much easier. Thank you.

  To my girls in the Swan Squad, you rock and make me laugh every day. Your support is what keeps me going on lonely author days.

  To every single person who has ever downloaded one of my books, you are so appreciated and are making my dreams come true.

  To my beautiful husband who this year retired to care for our three teenage kids so that I can write more.

  Without you, I wouldn’t have my beautiful kids. I wouldn’t be living this amazing life, and I definitely wouldn’t be able to write love stories… because I wouldn’t know if true love really existed.

  You are my reason.

  I love you.

  xoxox

  Gym

  Junkie

  T L Swan

  Copyright 2018 by T L Swan

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  BOOKS BY T L SWAN

  Stanton Adore #Stanton book 1

  Stanton Unconditional #Stanton book 2

  Stanton Completely #Stanton book 3

  Stanton Bliss #Stanton book 4

  Find Me Alastar #Alastar book 1

  Save Me Alastar #Alastar book 2 (coming soon)

  Play Along

  Dr. Stanton #Dr Stanton book 1

  Dr. Stanton The Epilogue #Dr Stanton book 2

  Marx Girl

  Gym Junkie #Men of Marx book 1

  Anastas

  Mr. Masters #Mr book 1

  Mr. Spencer #Mr book 2 (coming soon)

  The Fireman Next Door #Uniform book 1 (coming soon)

  Escape Girl (coming soon)

  GRATITUDE

  The quality of being thankful: readiness to show

  appreciation for and to return kindness.

  Gym

  Junkie

  T L Swan

  Prologue

  The old woman walks in front of me and I watch the sway of her hips, as well as the flick of her stylish, silver hair, and I can’t help but smile. I hope I have sass like that when I’m her age. I’m always fascinated when I see an elderly person who appears to be in the prime of their life.

  What makes them so happy?

  Why are some people dancing through life with joy, while others spend their limited time doing nothing more than preparing to die?

  Lately, my mind has been clouded with these thoughts, to the point where they keep me awake at night. I sip my coffee as I stare into space and contemplate life’s questions.

  What is the meaning of life?

  You hear the question thrown around carelessly so often but recently it’s resinated with me on a deeper level. I get it now. I get why so many people ask the same question because I, too, am curious of the answer. I wonder at what age I’m supposed to work this out.

  Happiness is what, exactly?

  The shopping centre is crowded today, and I’m suddenly brought to a halt by my hand. I turn back to see what Simon is looking at.

  “Do you like this one?” he asks as he stares through the glass at the diamonds on display.

  Frustration fills me. Not this again. “Simon.” I frown, not knowing how to put this nicely. “I don’t want an engagement ring.”

  He smiles, distracted by the bling in front of him. “Of course you do. All women want to get married one day.”

  I exhale heavily. Why doesn’t he ever take the not-so-subtle hints? “I’m too young.”

  Simon takes me into his arms and smiles down at me. He looks so mischievous and handsome, and I’m unable to help but smile back.

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “I love you, too.”

  “Well…” He raises his brows. “Don’t you want to make me happy?”

  “You know I do.” I smirk

  “So, marry me.”

  I frown again. This time seems different than all the other times he’s spoken about it. “You’re serious?” I ask.

  “Deadly.”

  My chest tightens, and just like that, panic rises from deep in my stomach. I love Simon. More than anything, I love Simon, but we’ve been together since we were fifteen years old. I always just assumed we would break up along the way like normal teenagers do when they grow up. I never, ever intended to stay with my childhood sweetheart forever. I’ve always had plans for when we eventually broke up.

  A break up plan, if you will.

  Climb the Himalayas.

  Explore Antarctica.

  Fight Dragons with swords.

  Do anything other than be normal.

  Alas, maybe that’s not how my life’s going to go.

  I stare up at Simon and force a smile to my face. He’s hopeful and his eyes are filled with so much love that I get a deep sinking feeling in my stomach.

  Guilt.

  This beautiful man has been nothing but good to me and loves me so much, and all I think about all night, every night, are the places I want to travel to without him.

  No friends, no boyfriends, no expectations. Just me.

  The vile taste of guilt runs through me. Why do I feel this way? I hate it.

  I kiss him softly on the lips as my eyes search his. “Let’s talk about it tonight, babe.”

  “I can’t wait any longer. I need you as my wife… now.”

  I fake a smile.

  Please, don’t make me choose.

  I can’t lose him. He’s
a good man. The best. I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I let him go.

  “Let’s go inside the store and try some on you now. You can pick whatever one you want.” He takes my hand and tries to pull me into the jewellery shop, but I freeze on the spot and pull back.

  “No.”

  He turns back to face me, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean…” I hesitate for a moment and swallow the lump in my throat. “I mean I don’t want to try on rings today.”

  He frowns. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t feel like it.” My temper begins to rise. How dare he railroad me like this? We’ve never even discussed this properly before today. I mean, sure, he’s hinted, but a hint is a long way away from actually trying on engagement rings.

  “Well, I do,” he says, his tone clipped.

  My chin rises in defiance. “And I told you that I don’t.” I turn away from him and march back to the car.

  I don’t want to leave but I sure as hell don’t want to try on engagement rings even more.

  It’s 3:00 a.m., and I stare at the clock as it ticks over to 3:01.

  The sound of Simon’s gentle breathing is a constant reminder of what I stand to lose.

  The room is dark with a shadow of the large oak tree swaying across the wall. Occasionally the sheer drapes sway as a draft from the open window catches them.

  Why did we have to meet so young?

  And why do I feel like this? If I understand why, then maybe I can tackle the problem head on.

  It’s not like I want to be with anyone else, because I don’t. I can think of nothing worse than being with another man, so why do I feel like I need to run far, far away?

  I just wish I had some time on my own—time to stand on my own two feet, you know? To make my own decisions and choices, travel where I want to, when I want to. I just need twelve months. If I’d had that freedom two years ago I would have been well and truly over it by now.

  Would Simon give me twelve months?

  Could I ask him to give me twelve months to be alone, and then meet back up and get engaged, settle down and live a happily ever after life?

  No, that’s so selfish. I couldn’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair.

  My heart starts to beat faster.

  Would he do that for me?

  What if he met someone else and fell madly in love? I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t go through life watching Simon love someone who wasn’t me.

  I’m the person he loves; I’m the person he is meant to be with. This is a dumb idea. Of course he would meet someone else. He’s gorgeous and intelligent. A young up-and-coming anaesthetist like him would be snatched up.

  I get out of bed in a rush, go to the bathroom, turn the light on, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My heart is beating fast at the sheer thought of losing him.

  “Stop it,” I whisper to myself. “Don’t fuck this up. He’s beautiful. Marry him and forget this stupid nonsense.”

  Day five of no sleep.

  I lie on my side and watch as the clock ticks over to 3:23 a.m. My pillow is wet from my tears. Simon and I have been fighting all week, and now he’s not talking to me.

  He’s forcing me into a corner to marry him or leave.

  Make a decision.

  I feel like I’m on the precipice of Hell because I know what I need to do, and I feel sick about it. I’m going to ask him for a twelve-month break. I need to be honest and tell him exactly how I feel. I love him desperately, but I need this time to discover myself. In the back of my mind I know I could lose him, and if I do I’ll spend the rest of my life with a broken heart regretting the decision I’m about to make.

  I could never love anyone else. Simon is my soul mate.

  But if I don’t leave I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I did.

  Twelve months and I’ll be back with you my love, and I’ll be the best fucking wife you could ever hope for.

  You have my word.

  Chapter 1

  8 months later

  Brock

  “Morning.” I smile as I walk through the large office space. Two rows of five desks sit in one main hall. There’s a hive of activity going on, and this is where most of our work is done. Down a corridor, to the right, is my private office, along with the bathrooms and storerooms. Cindy is working in reception, and apart from Jesten and Ben, the other men who work for me haven’t arrived for the day yet.

  My company is Marx Security, and we’re private investigators. Each of the men who work for me have a past in the armed forces or the police force. They all come with baggage, that’s a given, but they’re also hard as fuck, which is what I need. There are ten of us at the moment, with another three joining us from the United States soon. We take on special cases and are employed by the government or clients that have enough money to be able to afford us. Very few civilians can, but we get the results that others don’t and we’re worth every penny.

  “Hey,” Jesten greets me as he studies his phone.

  “Hi, Brock,” Cindy coos, leaning forward and resting on her elbows as she grins over her computer.

  I force a smile and drop my head as I walk past her and into my office. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to hire her. I knew it before she even opened her mouth. Gorgeous, young, and as tempting as hell, Cindy is a walking, talking recipe for an X-rated after-hours meeting on my desk. Luckily for her, I take my job very seriously and I’ve worked too damn hard to fuck it up now with my hungry dick. She wouldn’t be able to take what I have to give anyway. She acts like a bad girl, but I know her type. She’s way too pure for my tastes. The poor fool is now openly swooning over me every day, and I have to tell you, it’s fucking annoying. One of these days I’m going to tell her just how much. I dump my bag onto my desk and look around my office. It’s neat, modern, and was decorated by my two sisters, Natasha and Bridget. This is my happy place now. Back when I was a navy seal, the dream of opening this business was what kept me going throughout my lengthier deployments.

  There’s a large, rustic timber desk in my office, as well as a trendy abstract painting, a leather wingback chair, and an ottoman that sits by the window. We run the business out of a converted warehouse that has high ceilings and rustic floors to give it an industrial yet modern feel. The business is successful, and every day is different. That’s what I love about it the most.

  Ben pops his head around the door, so he can see into my office. “You ready to go?”

  “Yeah, sure thing.” I stand and grab my things, and within two minutes, Jesten— who we call Jes—Ben and I are on our way to our first meeting of the day.

  We work in threes, that way we can ensure the safety of everyone. Jes and Ben are my partners. Funnily enough I met them both through my sisters. One married one sister, the other had the hots for the other sister, but he wasn’t as fortunate. Somehow, through it all, I gained two great friends and employees out of it.

  I got lucky.

  We drive down the road in my car. “So, where are we going?” I ask.

  Jes flicks through the paperwork from his position in the back seat. “To see a Hilary Chancellor.”

  “What’s her deal?” Ben asks.

  “Middle aged, very wealthy. Her husband died and it was determined a suicide.”

  My eyes find Jes in the rearview mirror. “And the wife doesn’t think it was?”

  “She does, but she thinks he was having an affair before he died, and she wants us to find out who the woman was.”

  I scrunch up my face. “Fuck off, man, we don’t do that kind of shit. I couldn’t give a flying fuck who was sucking his dick.”

  “Same,” Ben mutters as he stares out the window, uninterested.

  “The thing is…” Jes continues. “I studied his autopsy report and I’m not so sure it actually was suicide.”

  My eyes find Jes again. “What makes you think that?”

  �
�It doesn’t add up. The time of death, where he was found… it would have been near impossible for him to have done it all alone without any help. I also saw that he had past anal trauma.”

  My eyes flick to Jes in the mirror in question. “Mr. Chancellor liked cock?”

  “Seems so, although I’m not sure if his wife would have been aware of that from just reading the autopsy report. It wasn’t exactly spelled out in those terms.”

  I frown as I turn onto their street. “Okay, then let’s go find out.”

  We pull up outside a luxury house that backs onto Sydney Harbour, and I instantly smile when I see the view. “Very nice.”

  “What stupid prick would kill himself if he lived here?” Jes mutters under his breath.

  “Right?” Ben whispers as we approach the front door.

  I ring the doorbell, and a male servant answers the huge door. “Yes, hello, we’ve been expecting you. Please, come through.” He shows us through the house and takes us out to the backyard which has spectacular views across the harbour. “Please take a seat.” He smiles as we all sit down. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”

  “No, thanks.” I smile. Mrs. Chancellor approaches from inside, and we all stand immediately.

  “Mrs. Chancellor, I’m Brock Marx. My colleagues are Ben Statham and Jesten Miller. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I introduce us as we all shake her hand and pass over our business cards.

  “Thank you for coming.” She’s an attractive lady in her late forties who is immaculately dressed and has a killer body. She looks around nervously to see if anyone can hear us before she sits down.